1 Nov, 2018. International Departures, Málaga Airport, Spain:
‘To Shanghai, via Helsinki’, I said, heaving my backpack onto the conveyor belt.
She smiled and took my passport.
‘Oh…’ she said, her smile disappearing, ‘You don’t have….( and I thought she would say ‘a visa’ but no, she said)…. a Japanese passport?’
‘A what?’ I replied. I sounded confused but knew exactly what she was thinking.
‘A Japanese passport, she repeated, ‘This one if from…’ she flicked through the pages and turned it over, ‘This is from New Zealand’.
‘Yeah….Cos that’s where I’m from,’ What do you think? I bought this at the Mercardo?
‘But, you don’t have a Japanese passport?’ she asked me for (no kidding), a THIRD time.
‘Why do I need a Japanese passport?!’ I demanded.
‘For…’ she sounded like a little kid grasping at straws ‘For Shanghai.’
Last time I checked, Lady, Shanghai was not part of Japan.
‘Oh…’ she said, her smile disappearing, ‘You don’t have….( and I thought she would say ‘a visa’ but no, she said)…. a Japanese passport?’
‘A what?’ I replied. I sounded confused but knew exactly what she was thinking.
‘A Japanese passport, she repeated, ‘This one if from…’ she flicked through the pages and turned it over, ‘This is from New Zealand’.
‘Yeah….Cos that’s where I’m from,’ What do you think? I bought this at the Mercardo?
‘But, you don’t have a Japanese passport?’ she asked me for (no kidding), a THIRD time.
‘Why do I need a Japanese passport?!’ I demanded.
‘For…’ she sounded like a little kid grasping at straws ‘For Shanghai.’
Last time I checked, Lady, Shanghai was not part of Japan.
‘I’m not from Japan!’ was all I managed.
She began to type furiously at her computer and scroll
through some lists. Fed up, I then switched to Spanish.
‘Que esta buscando?’
(What are you looking for?)
'Una visa', she replied. It didn't seem strange to her that I could speak her language, only that I didn't have a Japanese passport. I told her I didn’t
need a visa as I was only in transit in Shanghai; I'd checked this already. She
seemed surprised that Shanghai wasn’t my final destination (?But I’m from Japan right? Shouldn’t I have a flight to Tokyo?).
If I wasn't so worried she wouldn't check me in, I would have scolded her, in Spanish*. I mean, I’d expect this kind of misunderstanding
at the market, or on the street, but not at a FinnAir (yes, I will name and shame) check in counter . I don’t blame anyone if ‘Kiwi’ isn't the top of their list when they see me. But surely
proof is in the passport, and - this is what bothered me the most - why should it matter if I was/wasn’t Japanese in
this particular situation?
Though it's related to race, I’m not labelling it as ‘racism’.
Perhaps… Poor judgement? Naiivity? Stupidity?
It actually took me back to another airport incident, this
time with my family. We were at the AirNZ check in counter, Napier. Us 3 girls
must have been standing together at the front because the lady asked us ‘Are
any of you over twelve?’
‘….We’re all over twelve’, we replied.
‘Oh! You’re ALL twelve?!’ she was genuinely surprised. (And I guess, seeing the stature of my mother, you might be too).
‘No, we’re all OVER twelve’, we repeated. And again, why should it matter, our age? We were travelling with our parents. Was she going to give us a toy or something for the flight?
She turned, and addressed me, only. ‘ARE YOU OVER TWELVE?’ she spoke not loudly, but slowly and clearly, so that, if needed, an 8 year old could understand.
‘I’m 21’ I replied with no emotion, no argument,
‘….We’re all over twelve’, we replied.
‘Oh! You’re ALL twelve?!’ she was genuinely surprised. (And I guess, seeing the stature of my mother, you might be too).
‘No, we’re all OVER twelve’, we repeated. And again, why should it matter, our age? We were travelling with our parents. Was she going to give us a toy or something for the flight?
She turned, and addressed me, only. ‘ARE YOU OVER TWELVE?’ she spoke not loudly, but slowly and clearly, so that, if needed, an 8 year old could understand.
‘I’m 21’ I replied with no emotion, no argument,
No idea
*I once did this to the tour guide in Bolivia. Poor guy. But
after months and months of being asked weekly – nay, sometimes daily – if I was Japanese, he was the
last straw.